Bonfire
by Zoe-eoZ
Summary: Short AU fic in which a jealous Damon messes up royally when trying to "protect" Bonnie. - Trying to get over her unrequited love for him, she finds herself facing someone else, but the evening soon turns into something much darker. Strong Benzo / but also Bamon - (See chapter 4 for explicit Bamon, 6 for Benzo. Not gonna end on an exclusive couple... Bonnie does love them both...
1. Burn

_Word of warning added: since a few people seem to think I'm trying to lure "Damon / Bamon" fans into this story... I'm not trying to do that. This is clearly marked as having Benzo as well._

 _Do not read on if you're just here for Damon. Do not read on if you expect Bonnie to ditch Enzo at some point and ride into the sunset with Damon. It's not gonna happen. Will there be Bamon? Yes. If you're just here for that: try chapter 4. I would put it all right here, but then I'd spoil the whole story for anyone who IS interested in giving it a chance._

 _..._

 _This will not be a very long story. It sorta just happened. It's an AU. In case it wasn't clear from the description: this will have both Bamon and Benzo._

 _Benzo is my favorite, but I have soft spots for a lot of other couples. Which is why this fandom is so fun._

 _Anyways. Here's the start:_

* * *

...

It should have been a perfect evening crowned by a peaceful night:

They had set out to light a bonfire at the beach, just a bunch of kids from college having fun. Bonnie had been looking forward to the event all month. She, Elena, and Caroline had been excited to finally celebrate the end of classes and the beginning of summer. They'd been talking about it for weeks, deciding on dresses, and who was going to try and hook up with who.

Elena had Damon, of course, still a fact that made Bonnie feel hurt inside at times. She'd had her moments with him. He was her best friend. She knew there had been sparks, the promise of more.

But then he'd never been able to make the move. And she couldn't. Out of loyalty to Elena, because the girl was her best friend, too. And Bonnie wasn't one to break someone else's relationship.

Didn't mean it didn't hurt.

She needed to try and move on. Get Damon Salvatore out of her mind. Caroline, too, had to get over a Salvatore, the younger brother, and Bonnie was sure that together, they would find some flirt-worthy material at the beach.

There'd be booze. There'd be flip flops and s'mores. There'd be so many boys just waiting for a fling, and hell if Bonnie wasn't ready for some good old-fashioned one-night-stand.

If she was being honest, she just wanted to be fucked again, and not just wallow in self pity while picturing Damon with Elena and hating herself for it.

* * *

…

When the party was in full swing, she was making good on her promise to herself. She was flirting left and right, she was accepting drinks from whomever handed one to her, she didn't even ask what was in it. And she had a blast.

She winked at Caroline when the blonde slowly made her way into the shadows with that handsome exchange student from Denmark, (or was it Sweden?), then sat down next to the bonfire, holding a stick with a marshmallow into the flames. She was ready for some calories to battle the alcohol.

"Care to introduce a foreigner to the intricacies of the American tradition of roasting sugary treats?" A handsome male voice with an English accent next to her quipped, and she turned around and squinted at the dark haired man sitting close to her, surprised at recognizing him.

Wasn't that Damon's roommate? Yet another exchange student. Probably because everyone local knew how notorious Damon was and didn't want to room with him, Bonnie thought. She bit her lower lip to stop herself from going down that road.

She'd tried this too many times: pretending Damon was an asshole, and not worth her time. He could be, yes, but she knew that deep down, he was a kind human being with a heart of gold who cared for those he loved.

And he did love her.

He'd been the one to take care of her when Elena and Caroline had been in Europe and her stupid boyfriend at the time had started threatening suicide when she had wanted to break up.

It had been Damon who'd looked out for her, who'd given her the strength to go through with it anyways. He'd made sure she ate when she felt like she couldn't, he'd made sure Malachai got the help he needed, when she had just wanted to push him off the windowsill he had climbed on that one day.

He'd been so good to her.

For her.

And now here she sat with his roomie and all she could think was… He was cute, too. A bit like a more British version of Damon. Washed out. A little less electric. But hey. She needed a rebound-type-of-guy anyways. Not that she'd ever even gotten _that_ close to Damon…

She sighed, then pulled herself up straighter, putting on her best flirty expression. Focus on the fun, Bonnie, she cajoled herself.

"Leonardo, right?" She said, vaguely remembering he had a rather un-British sounding name, and she startled slightly when he threw back his head a little, a wide grin blooming on his face before he chuckled.

"Close enough. It's Lorenzo. Or, for you: Enzo."

She was grateful for the booze in her system that had already made he cheeks look flushed, or else he'd have noticed her embarrassment. As it was, she simply acknowledged it, then leaned in to put an arm around his neck in a familiar gesture.

"Okay, _Enzo_ ," she stressed his name with as much breathy seductiveness as she could conjure, "let me show you how we do this…"

And she smiled at him, scooting even closer, taking his hand to guide his movement.

* * *

…

Damon had been standing with Elena, animatedly talking to a group of friends, when he suddenly spotted Bonnie sitting by the fire. At first, he didn't think anything of it, but he found his gaze drawn there more and more, until he was barely able to follow the conversation around him anymore.

He nudged Elena. "You think we should get her home?" He asked, nodding in their friend's direction, but Elena shook her head.

"Why? She looks like she's enjoying herself."

"She's drunk. I don't want her to get hurt."

"By Enzo?" Incredulity tinged her chuckle, and she placed a hand, lightly soothing, on his arm. "He's your friend. And he's sweet."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Sweet…"

She chuckled dismissively, then went back to talking to her friends while he muttered to himself, "He's also a man."

Over the course of the next half hour or so, he felt himself grow more and more agitated. He was worried about her. They were getting too close over there. Had Enzo just… pushed his hand under Bonnie's shirt?

Alright, this was enough.

He stalked off, with a quick excusing peck on Elena's cheek. "I'll just make sure Enzo doesn't overstep-" He didn't finish his sentence and didn't hear Elena's weak protest that Bonnie could take care of herself. He was already half way over to the fire.

"Take your hands off her," he bit out, making Bonnie look at him exasperatedly.

The two disentangled, facing him, and Enzo slowly rose into a stand.

"Damon," he said brightly, "did you know that your friend Bonnie Bennett is an expert in the art of s'mores?"

"And you are an expert in seducing vulnerable young women, methinks. Back off, St. John!"

Enzo cocked his head, giving Damon a curious look. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Bonnie rolled her eyes, then slowly got up herself, a little tipsy and unsure on her feet, she stumbled and steadied herself against Damon's chest. "Stay out of this, Damon," she whispered, then pushed herself off him and back toward Enzo.

It wasn't quite clear to either of them what happened in the next few minutes.

Damon felt a sudden sense of jealousy explode in him.

Bonnie felt a surge of testosterone in both men, then a sudden tumult made her lose her balance and she felt herself falling.

Someone was trying to grab her, flailing arms everywhere, she felt the heat of the fire rushing toward her, then a huge push that took her breath away, and as she felt the ground hard against her back, she looked up to see Enzo and Damon fight? - Over her? She saw them shove each other.

Saw Damon's wild anger as he got his face into the other man's personal space, neither of them backing down, like an intimate dance.

She stumbled upward, grabbed Damon's arm. "Stop it," she breathed, angry at him, and a little bit… intrigued. A part of her loved to see how protective he was of her.

But then she saw the brute force he put into his next move, the calculation when he shoved Enzo with both arms outstretched, catching his friend off-guard, making him stumble and…

… scream as his arm caught fire immediately when he fell too close to the flames.


	2. Green eyes

_Thank you to those willing to give this a chance!_

 _Jade: you rock! Happy to have you on board for this. :)_

 _My two "guests": thank you! Stick with it, please. You'll get something out of it (I hope) - my love for Bamon definitely stems from their time together in the prison world. It's probably part of the reason why I really didn't mind so much when Elena was not gonna be back for the next season, if I'm being honest..._

 _But. I do have a fierce character love for Enzo. This chapter will be mostly him..._

 _Anyways. I'll probably be posting a chapter a day for the next four or so days. Or, if I get it into my head, I'll spring the rest on you in one go once I'm done (which can be any moment, really.) I should warn you now: This should probably be posted under a higher rating for something happening in future chapters, but then again..._

 _On we go:_

* * *

...

He doesn't remember much of that fateful night. He remembers Damon's ridiculous possessiveness and outright hatred, yes. He remembers telling him to chill, and that he and Bonnie had merely been talking.

He remembers the change from fake happiness to a sad wistfulness when he had put her on the spot even earlier than that. Too harsh as he now knows.

"Does Damon know how you feel about him? Because, frankly, the way he looks over here at us makes me think your chances at love are much better than you may think, gorgeous," he'd told her at some point. She had glared at him stonily. But he had seen the way she had tried to catch a glimpse of his roommate afterward. Her head down, she had peeked through her lashes, as inconspicuously as possible.

He sighs at the memory. He had known it then. That he wouldn't get anywhere with his lame attempt at flirting.

But then everything had taken a rather dark turn.

The flames. A searing ice cold hot sensation that didn't even register as pain until much later. Her eyes. He remembers staring at them as if his life depended on it. The bright green the only thing keeping him from seeing the ghastly damage to his arm.

He remembers the smell. No more sweetness. More like barbecue... The memory still makes him gag.

But through everything, her eyes were there, holding him in their gaze. Soothing, lulling. Until... nothing.

And then: pain...

He grimaces. He can't help it. He may have made a noise too, he's not sure.

"Sorry, hun. I know it hurts," the sweet middle aged nurse tells him as she proceeds to change the dressings on his arm. "Almost done." She looks up at him and smiles. A reassuring if also sad smile, he finds.

The pain is too much to remain stoic, or even just to return the smile.

When she's done, she gives him another smile, then gently lays a hand on his "good" shoulder.

"It'll get easier," she whispers. And he desperately needs to believe it's true. "And use that morphine drip, hun. It's there for a reason," she reminds him, and he tries hard not to roll his eyes.

She doesn't know how much he hates not being in control. How much he battles with himself about this stupid drug that is supposed to help him. He wants to stay alert. He needs to stay alert.

Except. His father is not going to show up here anyway. No need to freak out about him anymore. The man is out of his life.

If only his stupid brain would finally catch on to the truth of that, too.

He closes his eyes, silently battling with himself. He is just about to give in to the stupid freaking pain, his body starting to writhe under it of its own accord, when he hears a sudden light knock on the door.

He clenches his jaw, so hard it hurts. If that is Damon again, he'll have him thrown out. He can't deal with him right now.

He doesn't want to hear the stream of apologetic word diarrhea mixed in with cocky deflectives and, worse, accusations.

 _"I'm sorry, but you shouldn't have stood so close to the fire. Shouldn't you of all people know to be more careful?"_

 _"I didn't mean for any of this to happen. But you were getting way too close to Bon there, and she's vulnerable right now."_

 _"Bonnie and I have history. None of your business. Just… stay away from her, okay?"_

 _"I did not make you set your arm on fire, did I? It was not my fault you fell. Gotta be more careful, Lorenzo."_

 _"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I… I don't know what happened. I get protective, okay? She doesn't have anyone looking out for her but me. You weren't there when her dick of an ex… well, anyways."_

Anyways… Enzo swallows hard, forcing the memories to go where so much that happened in the last few days has gone already, into the void.

But then the door is opened slowly, and her head appears in the crack: Bonnie. A smile on her beautiful face.

His finger still hovers above the little release button for the morphine. If he presses down on it, he'll soon be too out of it to talk with her. If he doesn't, the pain might have the same effect. Maybe just a minute or two later.

He decides it's worth it and lets go.


	3. The other party

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed._

 _Guest: (if you're still reading...) Thanks for the feedback and you're welcome! I'm not trying to lure anyone in by putting Damon in this. I haven't done so before and I'm not going to start now. - As anyone can tell from the two TVD stories I wrote before (just looking at word count, completed status, and review count) I'm not fishing for reviews. I'd love to get more, what writer doesn't? But I'm not gonna use tricks to get them._

 _In fact, I'll just post two chapters now, and the rest probably in one last installment after, fully aware that most people don't review for individual chapters that way. Which is cool._

 _But just to make it more clear, I'll add that this is not a fluff story. It's complicated. And a bit strange._

 _Anyways. This is entirely too long and I'll better give those of you still interested the next few chapters. This one is Benzo, the next one a higher rated Bamon..._

* * *

...

His face is pale, but with the hint of a smile around the corners of his mouth. His lips have the same color as his skin. Ashen.

She can read the pain in his features and wonders whether coming here was a mistake. After all, she barely even knows him.

But then his smile deepens, and there is the slightest tinge of color creeping into his lips and she knows it was the right thing to do.

"Hey," she says, her voice soft and warm. "I guess I shouldn't ask how you're doing…" She makes a face, indicating both his arm and the IV by his side. He grimaces. "I'm glad you're doing a little better," she adds, and he frowns slightly.

"Did I manage to make an idiot out of myself?" he asks, and she looks at him puzzled.

"Not that I can recall…"

"I mean… after…"

She nods, understanding now. "You were very brave," she informs him. She has reached the side of his bed by then and gently takes his hand in hers, sitting down in the chair someone left.

She wonders whether it was Damon. She can't stop thinking about him. She saw him earlier. Again. He was in a bad way. _Again_. Drunk already, and it wasn't even noon yet.

She knows the accident has gotten to him. He blames himself. He acts up. Elena was also upset with him for causing such a scene. For Bonnie… She bites her lip at the memory. Elena hadn't been upset that Damon had been there for Bonnie, had been a friend. But she had seen just how deep his feelings ran for her; everyone had seen it. And suddenly, nothing was like before.

Bonnie herself should feel so lucky. Damon's feelings had finally exploded out of him, his love for her so evident. Yet here she is, still shocked at the outcome. At how violent and dark he had gotten that night. At how he'd _aimed_ to hurt, to really do some damage. And that it had worked.

Enzo is here because of Damon. And because of her.

If she hadn't played with him, taunted Damon unknowingly (or was it, really?), maybe he'd still just be Damon's roomie with the cute accent and empty flirts, here for another few months or so.

She is pulled out of her thoughts when her gaze falls on his naked torso. The arm is bandaged up thickly, but the rest is clearly visible. There are streaks of red rawness extending to his shoulder, looking painful enough on their own, but what catches her attention are the older marks on his body. Scars. She involuntarily finds herself tracing them with an imaginary finger. She feels the urge to touch…

But of course she doesn't. She shakes her head a little, forcing herself to smile.

But he has already followed her gaze and notices. "I'm sorry," she mumbles.

He smirks. "As much as I'd like to pretend that you're just devouring me with your eyes," she feels her cheeks heat, and he chuckles a pained chuckle, "those are the not so fond reminders of my childhood. Don't worry, none of it hurts now. Well, other than my pride."

"What happened?" She asks before she can stop herself. "I'm sorry. That's none of my business."

"I wish I was your business…"

His cocky directness startles her. She has expected something else.

She remembers how his eyes had searched for her during the ride with the ambulance. And even before… He had fought to keep them trained on her, and she hadn't dared break contact, because it had seemed to help him hang on.

"You kind of are now," she allows, a smile reaching her eyes before it is visible anywhere else.

Bonnie sees his expression shutter closed, like he's retreating from her and she wonders briefly what she said. She bites her lip when she realizes how he probably read her words.

"I'm sorry," she mutters, then pauses. "I didn't mean... - Maybe I should go. I just wanted to check on you. I… I'm really sorry this happened to you, Enzo."

He sighs, and she can see the beginnings of a light sheen on his forehead. "It's not your fault," he says. "I had a great evening with you, Bonnie Bennett. Could have done without the ending, but," he shrugs a half shrug, grimacing as his brain catches up with the fact that his body is still too sore, "I liked spending time with you."

"I was with you, you know?" She looks at him, not quite sure why she's telling him this. She doesn't want to put him on the spot, or make him feel awkward. No… She wants him to know he was not alone. He gives her a strange look, guarded, but curious. Like he is a little anxious about what she will tell him.

"I hope I was a complete gentleman," he jokes. Bonnie's smile widens.

"Oh, you were." She makes a long pause. Absently, she caresses his uninjured arm, unaware of how he observes her as she does. "You really were very brave."

He scoffs. "I doubt that. This shit," he half swallows the curse, "bloody hurts too much for dignity. But thanks for letting me pretend in front of the pretty lady that I took it in stride. Much appreciated."

He smiles so openly suddenly that she feels her heart flutter. She's completely unprepared for him to get to her so much, but he really does.

Which is especially unexpected after last night… She bites down at the memory, forcing herself not to bring Damon into this.

"Did they call your family?" She asks in an attempt to get her mind back into this hospital room, and she's glad that it works.

He gives a small unhappy nod, then looks away. He tries to move his position, and she can suddenly tell that he's been fighting his increasing pain.

"You are not very happy about that."

"You wouldn't either. They're not good people."

It's easy for her to put two and two together, and she frowns at him, shocked. "They're not coming over here then, are they?"

"Thankfully their little island is too far away for their convenience. They're paying the bills, however. I'm not complaining."

"Has anybody visited you, then? Any friends?" She doesn't know where that sudden concern for him is coming from. It's different than before. On that night, she had felt a little guilty and mostly just bad for him. It had just so happened that she had ridden in the ambulance with him, holding his hand like she's doing now, softly talking to him, holding his feverish gaze. But now… She wants to punch somebody on his account, she wants to give him a big hug, and keep him company.

"It's not like I have many friends," he says. "But if you want to still count Damon…"

Her features darken. "Did he-"

"He was drunk." Enzo doesn't look at her.

"I'm sorry. He does feel awful, but I know that's no consolation…" She is surprised she doesn't defend him more. Like she used to do before. Everytime Damon has done something bad, he always had at least a few people take his side, make excuses for him, forgive him. He's never had to atone for long. He's never had to live with the concept of consequences. Bonnie suddenly sees how unfair that is.

She's never thought much about the other party before…

Enzo raises an eyebrow, then returns his attention to her. "Yeah, well. He's Damon. I can't…" he changes the direction of his statement, "I hope at least it helped him admit to you that he does love you, too."

She swallows hard. Her throat feels constricted, like she's about to cry. She feels so awful suddenly. That Enzo had to pay for her moment of bliss last night. The price was too high.

She can't…

"I'm sorry, but, I, uh…" he stammers now, eyes listing, and she frowns at him with worry, "I need to…" He indicates the little drip by his side and she feels like a fool for not having made the connection.

She lets go of his hand quickly, touching her cheek in a shy gesture as she does. "Oh gosh, of course! I didn't keep you from-"

"Nah, I was trying to hold off." He seems to think for a moment, as if he's not sure he should say what's on his mind, then he continues, "You know, the stuff kinda numbs the brain and I… when I saw you I wanted to be able to have a conversation." He smirks.

Bonnie is acutely aware of her cheeks flushing. "I guess I should leave you alone then." She smiles as his features turn more serious. "Maybe I can come back," she suggests, " I mean, if you don't mind…"

"I'd love that."

She smiles, pushing a strand of her hair back behind her ear as she gets up to leave.

"See you tomorrow then?"

He nods, his smile looking more labored by the second, and with a last wave, she opens the door and rushes over to the hallway wall to steady herself.

Her legs are shaking. She rubs her hands over her face, trying to breathe through the urge to cry, but failing.

She feels so bad. For him, the pain she caused him.

And about last night. It should be a glorious memory. But her pleasure feels unearned now.

She doubles over, suddenly feeling sick. Then she runs out as fast as possible.

Away from this place.


	4. Lost

...

It was right after the night of the bonfire. He had felt so lost and horrible. Elena had given him that look of utter disgust.

He'd lashed out at her with words. Arms wide, coming at her. "What?!" He'd asked, adrenaline and testosterone levels still sky high.

She had simply turned around and gone.

"What?!" He'd said again, aggression making it hard to feel anything. But guilt had started to seep in. And shock.

What had he done? He'd shoved Enzo, again and again. He had not been an inch away from the other man, so… jealous and angry that he hadn't been able to think.

He'd ruined everything. He hadn't been able to stay. He had just walked away, leaving others to deal with the repercussions.

He'd run, not knowing what became of Enzo. He'd find out soon enough. He'd been too… shocked, appalled, forlorn. In complete disbelief. Like his brain had just shut down.

He'd spent a night and a day on a bender. Stefan had tried calling him a million times, but he hadn't answered once. There was a call or two from Elena.

But when he finally came down from whatever had befallen him, it was Bonnie whose doorstep he found himself on.

When she opened the door, her face looked tired and drawn, with a hint of accusation maybe. But it melted away when he broke into honest tears that he couldn't hold back anymore.

She came toward him, wrapping him in her arms, and he knew he didn't deserve any of it, but he clung to her nonetheless, unable to let go.

"I'm so sorry." His voice was hoarse from screaming, then silence and booze, and it hurt to talk. "Is he…"

"He'll be in the hospital for a while. Damon…" She gave him a look that was more concern and disappointment than anything else, and he felt himself crumple under it. "You really fucked up."

"I know."

"No, you don't. You fought with Enzo over nothing." She gave him a meaningful look.

Damon snorted. "That's what he was trying to make me believe. But I know him. He was flirting with you like crazy and-"

Bonnie held up a hand to stop him, a small gap appearing between them. He felt the cold where her warm body wasn't touching his anymore, and he was lost once more.

"What if he was, Damon?! I had a good time with him! It was nice having somebody compliment me, flirt with me. I've needed this. And I wasn't gonna get it from you, so…"

Damon swallowed. He knew what she was inferring. It was an unspoken secret between them. Or was it really? He hadn't been entirely sure until now. There had always been that tension between them. Mutual attraction.

But she had been vulnerable, and he had been in a relationship. He was. (Or maybe not anymore, he wasn't sure.)

He gave her a long look, his gaze entranced by her green eyes, her full lips. And suddenly, he followed an impulse and pulled her toward him, hard, and he roughly kissed her, his mouth colliding with hers, his tongue foraging its way past her teeth, half forcing its way in.

She was scrambling against him, half fighting him off, half egging him on, and he was ready to play this game, so ready to forget everything else for a while.

He barged in, pushing her against the wall, closing the door behind them with a kick of his foot. He tore at her clothes, pulling her shirt up and over her head, her arms still trapped when he shoved a hand in the cup of her bra, making her gasp as he pinched her. He didn't bother with details, he tore the bra open, her breasts spilling out, so full and round, her nipples so very erect that he felt himself harden unbearably, his cock straining against the zipper of his pants.

She had freed her hands just as he was freeing himself of his jeans, and as her eyes fell on his length, she swallowed visibly, then took him in a hard grip, letting her fingers move up and down, up and down, while he tried desperately to concentrate on the intricacies of the buttons on her pants.

"I want to fuck you," he hissed, and she came at him, her mouth on his again, one hand grabbing his and guiding it down where she wanted it. When he felt how wet she was, he was sure he'd cum too early after all, and it took everything for him to slow down.

She was shimmying out of her clothes, suddenly stark naked in front of him, and he gasped at the sight, her soft skin gleaming in the light of the hallway, her breasts rising and falling with every breath she took, the small mound between her legs, and he grabbed her there, with a confident grip, staring her right in the eyes when he parted her, putting a finger on her once more, making his way around her, marveling at the softness, the wetness. She threw her head back, leaning more against the wall, clutching his cock in a vise as he went on, until she couldn't take it anymore.

"I need your cock in there," she told him bluntly, shoving his hand away. Under normal circumstances, maybe he'd teased her more, asked her how she liked it, what would make her cum. But these weren't normal circumstances and he gladly obeyed, turning her around with a rough and swift movement, till her back was toward him, her hand against the wall, and he grabbed her beautiful ass as it was presented to him and entered her with a shiver, as slow as he could make himself do it. Which wasn't easy.

He was pushing into her, his skin making noises against hers. She felt so good, so warm, so tight, like home…

He came so violently that he almost lost his grip, and he crashed into her, panting heavily, his mouth against her neck, and he bit her, not softly either, and she made a small surprised noise.

"I'm sorry, Bon," he muttered, spent, then boosted himself off her back and gently turned her to face him. "I love you…"

He doesn't know what exactly happened after. But suddenly she had withdrawn from him, had put her clothes on quickly, keeping her distance. He wanted to ask "Did I do something," but of course he had, and he didn't want to risk her telling him what an awful person he is.

She had given him those looks, full of sadness. A kiss. But she had barely spoken.

So he'd left. He'd told her again that he loved her, that he needed her, but that he'd give her space. She had remained so quiet. Just a nod, and another peck on the cheek, and then… she'd closed the door again so quickly that he'd known how badly he had really fucked up.

There hadn't been anywhere else for him to go but to his brother, but for some reason he had felt the need to make himself repent so he had visited the hospital first.

He had truly meant to apologize. But when he'd seen Enzo lying there, so obviously in pain, his arm a horrible mess, something in him had just snapped and he had watched himself as if from afar as he had spewed out more lame excuses for his behavior, unable to stop until Enzo had looked at him without any emotion, his eyes just darkness, and said, "You've always had her, Damon. You simply didn't care to look or listen. Don't make me pay for your stupidity. I thought we were friends, so that's on me." He'd scoffed. "I hope you won't hurt her, because I swear to whatever there is out there, I'll come after you if you do."

Damon had grinned. Had rubbed it into the other man's face that _he_ had been there for Bonnie through so much already, not Enzo. She didn't need anyone else to take care of her. He'd half hoped Enzo would get angry and retort. But all he'd said was, "I really want to believe that. But you've been a great friend to me too, and look where that's taken me..."

Damon's expression had changed quickly after that. He'd given Enzo a long look, lost for anything snarky to say. He'd left quickly after that, the second time that day that he'd felt utterly rejected.

Enzo had been the one who had "lost" the fight and was laying in the hospital, fighting with pain. Yet it was Damon who felt like he'd lost everything, not just a fight. A friend, a girlfriend, the woman he'd loved secretly for so long.

…

Later, after he'd raced his car down empty streets for as long as he could stand, he'd still found his way back to the home he still shares with his brother, and when he creeps inside now, exhausted and with another hangover from hell, it is Stefan who helps him to the nearest couch and who lays a blanket over him as he finally, finally falls asleep.

"Oh, brother," Stefan whispers, resting a hand on the older one's forehead, sitting, and waiting with a sad expression on his face. But also full of love. Damon doesn't know it now, but he'll never lose his brother.


	5. Love is strange

_Oh well. I'm done editing already. I'll give you the rest. There's a small chance I'll get it into my head to write one last additional chapter (if there's even any demand, which I kinda doubt, especially once you've read the last chapter. lol) For now I'll put this as "completed," however._

 _As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Good or bad. :)_

 _If you don't have an account, I'm happy to reply on my profile page._

 _Thanks to those reading!_

...

Enzo doesn't know what to make of her. She comes to visit him almost daily, and he's relieved when he starts noticing a change in her over the days. At first, she seems so fragile, and lost, and he blames himself for having caused her pain somehow.

"You don't need to come here, love. I'll be fine," he once tells her, but she looks at him all confused, and shakes her head. "I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything, or…" he trails off. He can't bring himself to say it. He doesn't want her pity. He's fallen in love with her, head over heels, as stupid and as hopeless as that may be, and he doesn't need her to tell him to his face that he's nothing but a charity case to her.

He has a splinter of dignity left, and he's holding onto that with pathetic vehemence. He almost chuckles to himself. She's seen him at his worst, so why does he even care?

Love is strange.

"I want to," she whispers, and she sounds so sincere and determined that he doesn't question her.

He looks at the pretty dress she's wearing and smiles to himself. She is gorgeous. Damon is a lucky bastard.

"What?" She asks. He swallows. He's tired and in pain and not capable of playing games. He feels stripped of his usual armor of empty words and light flirts.

"You're beautiful," he simply says, not looking away this time, meeting her gaze head-on. And he doesn't smile when she flushes.

"I… thank you." She bites her lip absently, busying her hands. He watches her for a minute or so, adoring how shy she's suddenly become, before he decides to end the awkwardness and resume a conversation.

"So, how's uni?"

She chuckles at his obvious non-sequitur, then looks at him, sighing. "It's alright. You're not really missing much. You're in Professor Saltzman's class too, aren't you?" When he gives a small nod, she continues. "Turns out he'll be going to do an excursion type class next semester - a follow up if you will. We will get to go on a paper chase of sorts. He's teasing us with this trip he has planned where we're supposed to build teams and find a rare artifact. Like a grown up version of a kids' play." She laughs again, and he loves the bright sound so much. Too much. He can barely concentrate on anything else.

"Sounds fun enough to me. I hope by the time it starts I'll be back on track to join. Though I doubt anyone would be willing to have me on their team by then. I'll be a stranger once more." He chuckles briefly. "Maybe I should just go back to England…" He doesn't know where this is coming from, or why he's saying it out loud. But it sounds terribly like giving up, though he's not ready yet to actually close the safety gap between himself and his dysfunctional family.

"You'll be on _my_ team."

He looks at her, puzzled at her tone. It's a simple statement, like it's fact already, and he suddenly feels like crying.

And what the fuck?

He can't cry. Not now. Not after everything. He's held out for so long. He has fought so hard not to break down, not even when the pain was at its worst. He bites his lower lip from the inside so she won't see and focuses on a spot to the side of her.

He can't look at her directly.

She cocks her head at him, he's not sure why. She's smart, though. Empathetic. She's probably caught on to him. He sighs, defeated.

He's so worn out.

"You're not actually considering going back, are you?" she suddenly asks him, concerned, and he smiles a pained smile.

"I don't know."

"Please stay." It's so short, so simple, and it shocks him more than he's ready to admit.

"I might," he says, guarded, "just to finish my classes. It's not like I want to go home. There's not much waiting there for me, unless you want to count my fuck-up of a father who's still angry at me for having gotten too tall and strong for him to beat on." He stops himself there. He's never mentioned this to anyone but Damon before, so why is he telling her? Bonnie Bennett is doing things to him, and he doesn't know how to handle that.

"I know something about dysfunctional families," she interjects, smiling at him. Then she sobers up and looks at him earnestly. He's a little afraid of what she'll say next. He feels too bare and raw in front of her. "I want you to know that Damon and I…" He clenches his jaw involuntarily. He doesn't want to hear this. He's all but forgiven Damon, even though the guy doesn't deserve it. But he's also Enzo's only true friend and he can't afford to lose him. But he isn't ready to hear about him and Bonnie. It's too hard now.

And why did he have to fall in love with her?

Because she is sweet, and strong, and gorgeous. She's smart. She's a great listener. She is inherently good.

She _cares_.

And unlike so many, she hasn't left him when he needed someone. When he needed _her_.

His jaw muscles are working and he can't help but avert his gaze when she continues, her hand and light touch on the bare skin of his shoulder.

"We are not together, in case you were wondering."

What? He perks up internally, allowing himself to breathe.

She continues, "We have a complicated relationship. I won't lie. He'll probably always be in my life. But... I think I'm falling in love with _you_."

…

She hasn't allowed that thought before, but when she says it now, out loud, she knows it's true.

She looks at him, gauges his reaction. She's not sure she should be telling him this, and she's absolutely sure she cannot (yet) tell him about the fateful night she slept with Damon, but something in her forces her to come clean. He deserves to know.

He had lent her a shoulder to lean on when she hadn't even known she needed it. He could have taken advantage of her, could have fucked her, a one-night-stand without repercussions. She had been looking for one that night after all. Instead, he'd made her feel good, had flirted with her, had coaxed out of her how she really felt about the whole Damon mess.

The least she could give him in return was honesty.

"I'm sorry you had to pay for the mess that is me and Damon, Enzo. I wish I could take it back."

"I'm an adult, Bonnie. You didn't do anything. I should have just walked away…"

"I know why you didn't." Because he is a good guy.

"I may be falling in love with you, too, Bonnie Bennett," he breathes, taking her by surprise, and she finds herself leaning forward as if of her own account and kissing his forehead.

She kisses him on the lips, ever so lightly, then scrambles up, suddenly strangely terrified, and rushes over to the door.

"I gotta go now, I'm sorry."

"Okay…" His handsome face shows the slightest trace of a smile, just in his eyes, and around the corners of his mouth, and she stops briefly, smiling back.

"See you tomorrow?"

He nods. And out she runs.


	6. Perfect

**A few months later…**

It has been her routine for so long that she's lost for a moment when she realizes that today she won't have to go visit him at the hospital or rehab.

She is here to _pick him up_.

Bonnie is strangely anxious suddenly. As if now, everything is more real. Before, she could always retreat back to the safety of the world, while he stayed behind, spending his days returning to health behind the walls of one or the other care facility. He didn't interfere with her outside-life at all. If she wanted to, she could pretend her little world with him was separate from the rest.

That would end today...

She had loved her visits. How she'd gotten to know him better and better over the course of the months. They had started out as strangers and now he knew more about her than anyone else. She'd felt safe with him. Still does. Safe enough to talk about Malachai, about her inherent fear that someone might get too close to her again. About Damon, even, her complicated feelings for him.

She knew he wasn't particularly pleased about the fact that she had slept with him, or that she had made up with him. But he was understanding.

Because he, too, had forgiven Damon. Bonnie knew that Enzo had a hard time making friends, and a harder time keeping them. For some reason he'd chosen Damon Salvatore to be one of the few.

She realized that they both had a fear of being left behind, of not being good enough, of being hurt over and over. Because they had _been_ hurt over and over. They were kindred souls and sometimes that made it harder. They understood each other almost too well. There was no easy escaping when they were together.

She sees right through it when he goes to his dark place. She has to pull him back at times.

He does the same for her. When she's lost in thoughts and emotions. About her mother, for example, who left her behind only to get herself a new family, leaving her with her Grams. Or her dad, who has been dead for a while now of course.

Or a certain Damon Salvatore. Who still messes with her emotionally sometimes.

"I'm sorry," she had told Enzo early on, "I don't think I can ever completely let him go. I don't love him like I love you, but I do love him. And I can't abandon him either."

To her surprise, Enzo had smiled at her, if carefully guarded. "Neither should you," he'd quietly replied, "It's one of the things I love so much about you, Bonnie Bennett: your fierce loyalty to those you hold dear. The fact that you don't abandon them even when they fuck up, and the going gets tough…"

She knows it's the truth. He really does love her, and it feels so good to be shown that love on a daily basis. It's refreshing and wonderful, and she falls in love with him more with every day that passes because of it.

He's not afraid. Of her, or the mess that is her emotional life. He's not afraid of sharing her (to an extent...). He's not afraid to show when he needs her either, and that, she knows, takes real strength.

She loves him. And he loves her.

It couldn't be much more perfect.

…

"Hello, love," he says as she meets him in front of the rehab facility, and he beams at her so happily that she can't but do the same. "Free at last," he jokes, and she knows there's something dark hidden in those words. He's spent a long time here, trying to get the full range of his arm back.

It's much better now, but the damage was too severe for the scars to fade, and he might not ever regain his prior mobility. He says he doesn't care too much, that it could have been that much worse. "It's just an arm," he tells her. But she still mourns for what he lost. Not because she minds what it looks like, or that he can't pick her up and whirl her around as easily as Damon can, but because she still feels guilty sometimes, even though he'll give her a look whenever he catches her doing that and says, "No more brooding, love. We don't live in the past." And because he knows she needs to hear it spelled out, "I'm okay, love. It's really not your fault."

It becomes second nature to her to help him when he needs it - which isn't often. Just sometimes… When they're in the kitchen together and he cooks for her, one of his delicious meals, and he needs something from their ridiculously high top cabinets, she'll grab her little step stool and get it down for him. Like now...

"You know, we can just install a new spice rack," he informs her, smirking, but she squints at him, then shakes her head. She's peculiar like that.

He laughs at her stubbornness. "You just want to milk it that I need your help, don't you?" he teases, and they've come a long way by then so she throws her head back, laughing, rather than being shocked or offended by his words.

She gives him a light kiss on his forehead while she's still up there on her step stool, for once towering over him.

"Maybe," she says, bathing in the way he looks up at her, a hunger in his eyes that has nothing to do with food and everything with her body so close to his.

She leans down, handing him the thyme for his mushroom soup, then bends down further to kiss him, this time longingly, using her tongue. And he forgets that he's supposed to be stirring the soup, and hoists her off the step stool, down to him, both arms obeying him as if nothing ever happened, and he carefully lays her down right there on the cool kitchen tiles, kissing her as they go, keeping himself propped up on his uninjured arm, while he uses the other to hold her neck.

She helps him with the buttons of her light blouse, the thin fabric falling to the side, and he takes her in, lacey bra barely hiding anything. His breath hitches and so does hers. His fingers travel under her skirt, then up again, touching her where she needs it, and she sees the triumph in his dark eyes when she starts moaning as his fingers find a rhythm on her most tender parts.

He's good at this, and she can tell that he knows it. His cocky confidence turns her on like crazy.

"I'm glad I finally get to do this, Bonnie Bennett," he breathes, never once unlocking his gaze from hers, and she feels herself grow hotter under his stare.

It had taken her forever to agree to sex in the first place. Not because she didn't want to. Hell, she had been so starved for it it wasn't even remotely funny any more (and yes, she'd had a very intimate relationship with her own hand at the time). She had just been so scared of hurting him.

The pain she had witnessed him going through had scarred her more than she'd admitted to anyone, including herself.

When they'd finally taken the plunge, it had been the most tender fragile love making she'd ever experienced. She hadn't known how much she liked it that way, but now that she does, and that he does, it's how they do things often, if not always. (Sometimes, they need it hard and fast, rough and wild. Sometimes, they need the bites and scratches and the pain.)

She arches her back off the tile, moving to meet his hand, to feel him deeper, but he is still teasing her, his mouth closing around her nipple, tugging, sucking, flicking it with his tongue, while he uses his free hand to knead her other breast. She clutches it with her own, making him intensify his touch, and she feels the tender scars on his skin, one absent finger tracing over them as her mind goes elsewhere.

She's almost there now. She bares her throat as she bends her neck, bucking up, begging for release. "Please," she moans, tensing her toes, clawing at him as his head wanders down, his tongue replacing his finger now as he begins to eat her out in the best way, full slow strokes, lapping at her till she's about to burst, and then… He circles her clit a few more times for good measure, looking up briefly only for her to shove him back down and he smirks at her knowingly before dipping in for the grand finale, his fingers inside her now, she doesn't even know how many, and she clenches around him as she feels him lick her again, a hard long stroke against her clit, finally, finally. Again.

And again; and she yells out way too loud as she cums, laughing as she does.

She knows he's watching her now, but she is not done with him yet, and he isn't done with her, and she rolls to the side, opening her legs wide so he can enter her, and when he does, finally filling her up completely, she needs it to be harder. Deep. And she tells him so. He is happy to comply, thrusting into her, hard, her eyes on him, and as he looks down on her, she feels like the most beautiful, most desired woman in the world, and she loves him even more for that.

"If only I had met you earlier," she whispers after, as they both lie spent and sweaty on the floor, the soup still happily bubbling away not far from them.

He swipes her hair away, the sheen of sweat on her brow, kissing her gently. "You met me when you were ready, love. It was the perfect time."

She smiles at him. It's true.

And she snuggles up to him for a few more minutes before they decide it best to put some clothes back on and make sure the soup doesn't burn into the pot forever.


	7. The three of them together?

...

Damon doesn't realize just how lucky he is until the police show up at his college dorm right when Stefan brings him over there from his short stay back home.

They talk with him briefly. Explaining how it didn't look good that he had dropped off the face of the earth right after the incident. That people had _seen_ him at the bonfire…

He tries hard not to swallow too visibly, or to break into a sweat, but he can't control his body's traitorous reflexes and it shows.

The officer looks from him to his brother, then back to Damon. "You're lucky, son," the man informs him, " the kid isn't going to press any charges…"

The rest doesn't even register with him anymore. He's in shocked surprise over the fact that Enzo doesn't use this against him. Because if it had been him, he sure as hell would have.

Why doesn't Enzo, then?

Because of Bonnie…

Damon can't stop thinking about her. She's in his thoughts all the time now. Like a reminder. Her face, green eyes full of accusation, but also passion.

He fucked her. After all this time, he had finally been with her in _that_ _way_ and it has shocked his system. She is really all that. He can't forget her now.

The breakup with Elena is final, he knows it. Even though she doesn't even know about the sex, she's been more distant than anyone after the bonfire.

"I don't even know you any more," she tells him. And he gets it. He has never shown such anger before. He's never hurt anyone like he did Enzo.

He doesn't know how to move on from either of them, or any of it, and he finds himself drawn to Bonnie and Enzo daily. He goes over to the hospital. He doesn't want to pester Enzo, he keeps his distance. But he will talk to Bonnie here and there, a few words. A few looks. And eventually, a small hug.

"Damon…" She tries to stop him when he inadvertently tries to kiss her on one such occasion, and he gets the message. Old Damon would have pursued her anyways, but he's changed. He's more guarded now. Careful. "I really like him," she admits, and bile rises in his throat. He swallows it, nods.

"You always had a thing for charity cases," he jokes, but it falls horribly flat, and she stares him down, disgusted. She rolls her eyes and he grimaces.

"He's not a charity case. Whatever he is right now, it's because of you, Damon."

It stings to hear this, but he can't deny it. Bonnie has a very valid point. He sighs.

"I don't know how it happened," he mutters, trying to explain himself for the hundredth time (or more), "I wish I hadn't done it. Can you… do you think we can ever come back from that?"

There are tears in his eyes when he looks at her. Self hatred is a strong sensation, and he hates that even more than himself. How it ruins everything. But then she surprises him and leans forward, kissing his cheek ever so lightly, briefly taking his hand.

"It takes time, Damon. But it's not on me to forgive you. You still got me in your corner. But..." She pauses there, scrutinizing him, "I love Enzo. Don't ever try to hurt him again, in any way, or that may change."

He knows it then. She still loves him. He sighs with relief at the realization. But her priorities have also shifted. From him to Enzo. He's not her number one anymore.

He's finally admitted to himself where _his_ priorities lie, and she has moved on. He almost laughs at the irony. It's fitting. He probably deserves it. He does…

* * *

…

He can't explain it. Or maybe he can, if he's being honest with himself, which he will be, in due time. He just needs to process it for a little while longer first.

The way he develops a real need for Enzo to forgive him. So that _Bonnie_ can truly forgive him.

He watches them together, it's both like torture and a pleasure. He can't look away.

How they flirt: Bonnie leaning against the wall, or the car, Enzo framing her with his arms pushing off of whatever surface she stands pressed against. Talking in soft whispers, interspersed with laughter.

How she looks up at him, cocking her head, holding the lapels of his jacket, or patting a spot on his chest. Tracing the scars on his hand, up his arm.

It's his favorite part for some morbid reason. A secret he keeps to himself. He swallows, digging his thumb and forefinger into his eyes.

When she kisses him, and he her… sometimes Damon envisions himself in Enzo's stead, what it feels like to trap those beautiful full lips of hers between his teeth. The heat of her body pressed against his.

Sometimes the daydream goes further, and he's right there with them, kissing her, kissing him, tracing his scars, her skin…

His face not an inch from Enzo's, this time not to threaten, but to explore, to bare himself completely. Bonnie's breath against his neck as they all dance around each other, so close...

Maybe it can come true one day. The three of them together. If he doesn't fuck this up again. If he gives them time.

Maybe. One day.

...

And then, one day, it does.


End file.
